Regret Cheaper Than Dust

Everyone in Seavelt knew that Dr. Ethan Caldwell, the city's top gynecologist, never got close to women.

No matter how many youthful figures stood before him, he never so much as glanced their way.

I always thought I was different, even after ten years together, when he wouldn't let me touch him.

If my fingertips accidentally brushed his sleeve, he'd snap, "Behave yourself."

After another failed attempt to climb into his bed, he sent ten men to take turns with me.

Afterward, when I cried and lashed out at him, he said flatly, "I can't let you live like a nun forever."

The eleventh time he arranged for someone to pin me to the bed, I lost it and swallowed two hundred sleeping pills.

When I woke up, Ethan, for the first time ever, allowed me to touch him.

I thought I could slowly win him over.

But the next day, at his private villa, I caught him holding another woman in his arms.

He kissed the top of her head, his eyes burning with a passion I'd never seen.

When I confronted him, Ethan looked at me coldly. "Clara's not like you, Lily. She doesn't have those filthy thoughts or try to seduce men."

I bit my lip until I tasted blood. "Fine, Ethan. Let's break up."

...

The sounds of Ethan and his little sweetheart, Clara Hayes, came from outside the hospital room.

Inside, I groaned, unable to sleep after having my stomach pumped.

Ethan always said he wouldn't let any man taint his love.

But when I swallowed those pills to protect myself, waking up after ten hours in the ER, he only said, "You brought this on yourself."

Yet when Clara nearly tripped while shopping and a bodyguard steadied her, Ethan wanted to cut off the man's hand.

That's when I realized I was never his love.

The sounds of their intimacy outside stabbed my heart like a thousand needles.

When it was over, Ethan came in, his face hard. "What, breaking up again? How many times this month? Getting tired of it?"

Clara curled up in his arms, smirking at me like a stray cat. "If Lily's upset, I can just take care of this baby at the hospital."

"She's pregnant?" I froze.

Three years ago, doctors found cysts in my uterus. They said I had to get pregnant before it got worse, or I'd never be a mother.

I begged Ethan on my knees, but he wouldn't touch me.

Now, Clara had been back in the country for a month, and Ethan got her pregnant.

The pain in my chest drowned out even the ache from the stomach pump.

Ethan's hand rested on Clara's stomach. "Don't mind her. She's nobody. Just focus on the baby. I'll handle the rest."

He said those same words to me five years ago.

He was the lead surgeon back then, and someone jealous of him came at his right hand with a knife.

I took five stabs for him, sparing him a single scratch.

After I barely survived the operating room, he held me by my hospital bed and made a promise. "Lily, my hands are my second heart. You saved me, and I'll protect you forever. Give me a chance to keep you safe. Marry me!"

I remembered it clearly. He made that promise in this very room.

Now, all that remained was his cold stare and mocking scorn.

The last flicker of hope in my heart died. Seeing the red marks on Clara's neck, I said hoarsely, "I'm not joking. Let's get divorced."

Ethan's face darkened. "Fine. If you want to leave, go. Get as far away as you can. Don't come crawling back like a dog with a bone."

With that, he slammed the door and left with Clara in his arms.

My nose stung with tears. These five years with Ethan, I lost everything.